


Yule Shoot Your Eye Out

by blazersandbarricades



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Slow Burn, Songwriting, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-14 09:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4558740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazersandbarricades/pseuds/blazersandbarricades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael and Sarah (or you can substitute your name) are friends that write breakup songs together, mostly about his cheating ex. Their friendship becomes intimate with copious writing sessions, late night chats and crashing in his room. Michael ends up falling for her, and she ends up liking him but is convinced he's still not over his ex. Michael ends up hinting about his feelings through new song covers, and changing the usual sad angst moods to more romantic ones. Eventually they both admit that they're a good fit for each other. Christmas rolls around and some emotional feelings arise.</p><p>8tracks Playlist: http://8tracks.com/blazersandbarricades/you-could-be-my-ever-after-after-all</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yule Shoot Your Eye Out

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Merry Christmas, I could care less (about my heart because I just tore it apart writing this, honestly). Pure fluff because how good would it be if Michael sang Fall Out Boy's "Yule Shoot Your Eye Out" and flirted with you around the warm fuzzy time of Christmas.

December was always a heavy month. The air was thick with snow, hope, nostalgia, and regrets. The holidays brought out the rawness in everyone. Families came together, or grew further apart. Relationships either withered away, or excelled in the dreamlike state of Christmas.

You either loved or hated this time of year. Sadly, the defining moment of your feelings usually depended on the people you were surrounded by.

You could be in a crowded house of company, warmed by a fire and hot drinks and still feel alone. You could be alone on the holidays, yet have the best time enjoying your own company and the quiet reveries of reflection with minimal distractions. Nevertheless, the holidays made you look back and over analyze your life and choices - good and bad.

What’s almost worse is knowing that someone you care about is having a shitty time, especially during the holidays. You almost feel you’re betraying them for being half-assed okay, or happy with your life, or even just the change in weather.

If they aren’t okay, why should you flaunt your happiness, only to make them worse? It’s not like it happens on purpose, but it still stings to see that they’re not doing well and you can only do so much to fix their problems.

Michael had been going through the designated “shit” time for a few months now and while the creativity flew, the pain he was writing of was still very much real and interfering with his current life. Some days were better than others and as much as the boys had distracted him and even encouraged him to go out on the town to forget about it, Michael still internalized his heartbreak.

For someone who came off as confident and snarky, he probably hurt the most. As much as he said he didn’t care, Michael remembered the little details, the words that cut him the deepest, and the facial expressions that tore his heart in two.

Breakups were never easy, but they were worse when you could do nothing about it - only be blindsided by truths you couldn’t fix. He knew the trials long distance relationships took, especially on such a tight schedule of tours, interviews, and album releases. There was limited time to keep in contact, dates that had to be cancelled, and realities that poisoned what was once good.

Michael knew it was a possibility, but he didn’t understand why it had to happen to him when he’d gone above and beyond to not be forgetful, and make the most of the time they had. He sent packages in the mail, left voicemails and texts, photos and video calls to try and pretend he wasn’t miles away.

How could he be so dedicated and receive a false apology of justified cheating in return?

The familiar opening strings played, fingers grasping the pick in a determined combination of rage and misery as Michael gasped for breath before starting to sing his heart out.

Sarah always had a habit of falling in love with depressing angst songs, especially the Christmas ones, but seeing as the words were true for Michael, it brought everything into a different light.

They’d made it a tradition, almost, to let out their heartbreaks through songs, especially in the writing process. Michael had called her up one night in a humiliating breakdown that they rarely speak of, and asked for writing assistance, and Sarah had happily obliged from then on.

They’d kept it up for a few months, following his muse, and a few of Sarah’s, writing ‘Grammy winning quality’ songs, horrible ‘let’s never release this shit’ songs, and plenty of ‘fuck you’ songs, but they were still proud of their accomplishments – a few may make it on later albums, but Sarah didn’t care about that. She wanted to help, and it seemed to be easing the pain watching Michael write it all out instead of bottle it up. Slowly but surely he’d started moving on, and finding his old self again.

The odd friendship/writing relationship they’d started had grown into nights of personal conversations, late night runs for fast food, and the occasional hangout for non-work purposes. Usually the boys were around for those times, but it was apparent that their friendship was existent outside of their writing hobby.

Sometimes Michael sent lyric ideas or lines in text messages, sparking an all-nighter of strained eyes staring at too bright cellphone screens, or late night calls that lasted until three in the morning. Sometimes Sarah sent him writing inspiration, or little notes remembering the certain days he tried desperately to forget – knowing that the triggers would be tough on him. Sometimes they sent happy songs too, or cheeky flirty songs just to break up the sadness they usually surrounded themselves with.

As professional as they attempted to stay, they’d grown fond of each other’s company, despite Michael’s teasing commentaries, and inappropriate remarks that made her eye roll or give him the silent treatment for an hour or more. He had plenty of good qualities – those shone through within the first few times they sat together on his bedroom floor with notebooks and Michael’s acoustic planning out the emotions he wanted to put words to. Michael was incredibly caring, and really hadn’t deserved such a shitty breakup.

He could be a dick on occasion, but as time had gone on, Sarah became more protective of him, and saw that trait in the boys. He could repeat how much he didn’t waste time caring about the past, but when no one was around, he let his guard down. He’d started letting his guard down around the boys, and slowly around Sarah as the trust built. And that was something she was never going to break.

Seeing how far they’d come emotionally was a tough thing to face, especially now that the adverts were clogging their televisions and radios reminding everyone of their lack of significant others to do the stereotypical and cliché Christmas traditions with. It almost made Michael lose the progress he’d made – Almost.

He looked tense and even nervous as he strummed the guitar and let his voice shake through the lyrics. Approaching the chorus, his voice gained a bit more strength, though it broke on ‘ _I could care less’_  thick with lies of how much Michael still cared months later. It wasn’t so much that he still loved his ex, more how she could still hurt him this deep when he hadn’t done anything to deserve it, and how pathetic he felt that he was still upset about it months later.

Sarah watched him cast his eyes down to the strings, refusing to look back at her – evident that he didn’t want to start showing his true emotions.

His anger started up again on the second verse, the raspy tones calling out bullshit on ‘ _Don’t call me up when the snow comes down’_ , his fingers strumming harder. His demeanor was short and stern, as if he was admitting this was the last time he was going to be this emotionally distraught over their breakup.

When the chorus came round again, Michael raised his eyes from the guitar to meet Sarah’s, nodding for her to harmonize. Her vocal chords felt strained and scratched even though she hadn’t even spoke. It felt wrong to join him in serenading his ex goodbye, even though they’d done it plenty of times.

This felt far more intimate. The gaze Michael was giving her felt private, and her mind screamed at her to stop intruding and leave him to his grief, though her heart reminded her that he wanted her there. He’d wanted to let her into his life, and was content to keep her there.

They’d joked about their chemistry plenty of times, but the atmosphere of the twinkling fairy lights being the only source of light in Michael’s room, and the faint aromas of Ashton’s burnt gingerbread cookies that they’d decided to eat anyway, and the familiar cozy sheets sprawled across Michael’s bed and the drawer he kept his hoodies in and usually let her borrow felt anxious and invasive.

At what point had their relationship grown this private and secluded where she knew his routine, and had just managed to fit herself into his life? At what point had he just let her? At what point did their jokes become something that she’d started considering a reality? At what point had she even allowed herself to think them?

Michael was her friend.

Michael was still grieving.

This wasn’t allowed.

She wasn’t allowed to step over their boundaries.

She wasn’t allowed to feel like this.

Was she?

Was he doing the exact same thing?

Michael kept singing, smiling likely at her embarrassment of fucking up her cues, and transferred his gaze back to the chords he was playing.

Sarah watched cautiously, attempting to read from his actions whether she was the only one suspicious of the mood change.

Michael glanced through his eyelashes, noticing how nervous she’d become, and nudged her knee with his toes. He smirked to himself at her surprised expression before continuing on as normal.

During the guitar solo, Michael stared back offering a comment of teasing concern, “You okay there, little shit?”

Sarah waved him off, despite the blush creeping up on her cheeks, “Keep singing.”

Michael laughed, shrugging and starting the chorus again, this time with his usual gusto and confidence, even smiling through the lyrics.

“Merry Christmas, I could care less.” Echoed against the walls as Michael strummed to conclusion in time with their voices.

The pair of them stared back at each other in the new silence, before Sarah broke it.

“I was worried for your emotional safety, but you made a good comeback.” She remarked, although the anxiousness was obvious in her voice.

“I can’t say the same about you.” Michael grinned, setting his guitar on the floor. “You sure you’re gonna be alright?” He asked, as if all-knowingly, resting his hand on the knee he’d bumped minutes before.

“I—I’m fine, just cold. I’m going to make more hot chocolate. You want some?” Sarah asked quickly, tearing herself off the floor and making a break for it.

“I could care less.” Michael winked, watching her stare back at him before cluing into the joke and returning an eye roll. “No, seeing as  _you’re_  offering, yes, with marshmallows.”

Sarah nodded, and practically pulled the doorknob off to get away from the claustrophobia, immediately shutting it behind her, leaning back against it and sighing in terror.

“You guys sounded good together.” Calum piped up from the kitchen where he’d propped himself up on the counter waiting for the kettle to boil.

Shaking out of the initial shock, Sarah clambered away from the door knowing Michael would hear the sound and almost kicking herself for it. “What? Oh, thanks.” She swallowed, moving away from Michael’s room before she could cause any more noticeable noises to give herself away.

“Michael’s been singing a good cover of  _All I Want for Christmas is You_ , you should get him to do that next.” Calum continued, either oblivious to or fully enjoying Sarah’s internal panic.

“No. I think – I just – How’s your night going?” Stumbling over her words, she changed the subject and grabbed mugs from the shelf.

“Better than yours from the looks of it.” Calum smirked, just as the kettle clicked off and saved Sarah of further humiliation as she poured the hot chocolate mix into the mugs.

Calum hopped off the counter, pouring the hot water into his mug then passing it back to her. “Don’t forget the marshmallows.” He reminded, ruffling her hair before returning to his room.


End file.
